


Addiction Is A Powerful Thing

by MsOzma



Series: HSWC 2014 Fills [22]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Addiction, Alcoholism, F/M, casual mentions of genocide and murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsOzma/pseuds/MsOzma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the game, and people <em>still</em> don't like you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addiction Is A Powerful Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This was a fill I _sooooo_ wanted to make Eridan♥Roxy, but of course the team Eridan♥Roxy prompted this, and you can't prompt things for your own team sadly. _*le sign*_ Moirallegiance is still great, though.
> 
> Based on this prompt:
> 
> "Eridan♦/♠Roxy
> 
> The trope where no one came to the party and there's all this food. (In this case only one person showed up. It doesn't matter to me who's party no one showed up for.)"

Two years. Two fucking years after the game had ended and a new universe had been created. Two years you and the rest of your former teammates had all collectively decided to live on the new human planet earth (though you yourself still wanted to go back to Alternia). Two years of relative fucking peace.  
  
And people  _still_  don’t like you enough to come to your fucking party.  
  
All you wanted to do was have a little post-two-years-after-the-game get-together with the people you fought side by side with, but they still think you’re too dangerous to be around—that you haven’t cooled down. And now here you are, standing alone in your “house” (‘cause you couldn’t call this flimsy structure a proper  _hive_ ), balloons deflating around you, and all this goddamn food and beverages lying around with no one to eat and drink them. Sure, there were a few people that had legitimate excuses not to come—Kar said he had to make a speech (being the troll ambassador to the human’s pathetic United Nations is a difficult job, you’re sure), Kan had straight up told you she had no desire to come (still angry that you destroyed the matriorb and killed her), Vris is on house arrest, and Fef told you she couldn’t make the trip (though you’re sure it’s because she doesn’t fully trust you yet either, not that you can hardly blame her). Other than those guys, the only two people who shouldn’t be here are Gam and Cro, since you straight up didn’t even invite them. Hell, you even invited Sol, as a show of good faith after the two of you were a combined sprite for so long, but  _noooo_. No one wants to come here for fear you do something rash or dangerous, and it pisses you off to no end. The very thought that after you swore up and down that you never again wanted to be the person that had not only killed two of his friends, but had endangered the continuation of his species, that you had changed and saw the fucking light, that in spite of all of this they  _still_  didn’t trust you is enough to make you wanna  _destroy the entire fucking race_.  
  
Wait. No, you’re not supposed to think that. Goddammit, Ampora.  
  
You sigh, shaking your head solemnly at yourself. Maybe you really  _are_  still dangerous. Perhaps it’s best for you not to even  _try_  to branch out anymore. It’s better for everyone if they stay far away. Even though you promised Fef (everyone, really, but mostly Fef because she demanded it) that you would stay away from guns and, of course, wands as well, you can’t deny that the violent urge doesn’t  ~~occasionally~~   _frequently_  rise within you. You were raised with a mentality that told you that not only was it your  _right_  to kill everyone beneath you (which is basically  _everyone_ ), but that you had a goddamn obligation to, and simply shrugging that off even after everything that’s happened…well, it’s hard. It’s hard to fight these urges you know you shouldn’t have, and quite literally  _no one_  understands.  
  
Just as you resign yourself to the fact that no one is going to show up and that you’re a downright sad excuse for a “Hero” of Hope, your doorbell rings. You practically jump at the sound it’s so unexpected. With cautious optimism, you walk over to your door and slowly open it.  
  
“Excuse m—”  
  
You’re never able to finish the statement, as streamers explode in your face.  
  
“ _Woooooo!_ ” you hear a familiar voice yell. “Fuckin’ par- _taaaaaaaaay_!”  
  
Before you can greet this person, she strolls past you in a flash of pink. As you get your bearings figured out after the surprise of streamers (as well as having to sigh audibly at this person), you finally turn and speak to her.   
  
“Hello,  _Roxy_ ,” you say, being sure to bite out her name. You may not have spoken to the humans much since the game, but you can  _definitely_ remember the Trickster episode, and that is  _not_  a pleasant memory of yours.  
  
She seems to take in the room a little before she turns to you, beaming. “’Sup, Ampora?”  
  
Closing the door, you begin speaking again. “I assume you’re the only one o’ the humans who decided to show up?”  
  
She suddenly raises a quizzical eyebrow, then looks around at the house again. “I thought the party wasn’t ‘till nine?”  
  
You roll your eyes at her utter  _stupidity_. How did these humans manage to do  _anything_  useful for the game? “It was  _supposed_  to start at your human nine P-M,” you explain. “ _However_ , as you are apparently  _blind_  to seein’, it’s your human  _eleven_  P-M.”  
  
You point to a clock on the wall next to you, and she looks in that direction. You can see her eyes widen as things start to click.  
  
“And as you  _can_  plainly fuckin’ see,” you continue, “no one showed up.”  
  
“Oh,” she says. “Hm. I thought at least  _John_  would be here…guess they really  _didn’t_  wanna come.”  
  
You try not to think of the implications of that—that your actions were so horrible that not even the humans—who you were mostly uninvolved with even  _during_  the game—didn’t want anything to do with you either. Because you know thinking about it would just get you considering genocide again, and you didn’t need that. Not because it would scare your one guest off, because seriously, fuck her and the rest of those kids you had to deal with in the human’s scratched session (and a special fuck you to Tricksters, too). But you made a promise, and that promise is the only thing that makes people want to talk to you a little more than they possibly would Gam or Cro. That, and it’s the only thing keeping you rational now.  
  
Even if it means absolutely nothing to everyone else.  
  
“Uh…”  
  
Your eyes focus back to your guest, who is eyeing your punch bowl. She swallows hard, like she thinks something inside of it is going to come out and attack. “Does  _that_ …have alcohol in it?”  
  
 _Alcohol_? …Oh, her human soporifics.  
  
“Fuck no,” you remark. “I just got this red powdery stuff and followed the directions on it.”  
  
She exhales, the tension in her muscles immediately loosening. “Thank fuckin’  _God_ ,” she says, and grabs one of the plastic cups you had stacked and pours some inside of it. “You have  _no_  idea how rare it is for a party to  _not_  have alcohol.”  
  
You raise your eyebrow at her. “The fuck do you care? You drank your human soporific  _plenty_  during the game.”  
  
She flinches, looking as though she was genuinely  _hurt_  by that remark. For a minute, you think she will ( _finally_ ) leave—that, or yell at you, and give you a reason to vent your  _own_  rage.  
  
But instead, she just sighs and sets her cup down, looking forlornly at it.  
  
“I know,” she says, a sad expression on her face. “I used to drink  _so much_ …but I made a promise to myself and my friends I wouldn’t do it anymore.”  
  
A  _promise_?  
  
“And…” she continues. “And…I  _know_  I’m better than that anyway. At least, I  _think_  I am.”  
  
Sighing again, she looks back up at you. “Do you know what that’s like? For people to always think you’re going to do something bad to fuck everything up? Or that they feel like they have to be all  _sensitive_  around you, or else they’ll trigger somethin’? That they don’t… _trust_  you?”  
  
This hurts to hear. It hurts  _so much_. Because you know  _exactly_  what that’s like.  
  
She lets out a soft, obviously forced chuckle. “Sorry, fish dude,” she says, changing the subject. “You probably think I’m crazy or somethin’.”  
  
“ _No._ ”  
  
You say it softly, but stern enough for her to pick up on it.  
  
“I…” you begin. “No. That’s not crazy at all, Rox.”  
  
When she beams up at you, happy that someone actually understands her, you feel a feeling well up in you that you thought you never thought you would ever feel for anyone. And you yourself feel so much… _calmer_  than before. Even though you know humans don't do quadrants, somehow you can't help but feel such…such a  _pale_  affection towards her.  
  
And you can’t help but smile back at her.


End file.
